HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

”Oh, my dear Sherlock, I never imagined you’d be just like Hermione—a bloody rich kid!”

When Ron heard that Sherlock was letting him and Harry each pick a room, he spoke with an extremely exaggerated gesture.

If they were visiting his house, the guests would probably have to squeeze in with his family.

Ignoring Ron’s comment, Sherlock said to the two of them, ”Go to bed early after dinner tonight. We’re going to Diagon Alley first thing tomorrow morning.”

”Diagon Alley? Do you want to buy something?”

”Yes, I need your help.”

”No problem!”

Harry and Ron readily agreed.

Hearing that he could actually help Sherlock, Harry was absolutely delighted.

As for Ron, he figured that given Sherlock’s family circumstances, there was no way he’d ask to borrow money from him.

As long as it wasn’t about borrowing money, anything could be discussed.

Mrs. Holmes was an excellent cook—in the generally low-standard world of English cuisine, she could be said to stand out like a crane among chickens.

Although it didn’t look as sumptuous as the special feast meals in Hogwarts’ Great Hall during holidays, the taste was kind of better.

Ron was initially somewhat reserved.

But after tasting the food, he immediately reverted to his true nature, using both hands to grab a chicken leg and devour it heartily.

While Harry wasn’t as wanton as Ron, he still ate considerably more than usual.

Seeing the two boys eating happily, Mrs. Holmes’s eyes curved into smile.

For Sherlock himself, being able to taste his family’s cooking after such a long time was also something that warmed his heart.

That night, all three young wizards slept soundly.

The next day, Sherlock’s father drove them to the Leaky Cauldron.

The Leaky Cauldron was still as dim and hazy as ever, with few people inside.

Fortunately, this meant Harry’s appearance didn’t cause too much of a stir.

”It seems Father has been coming here frequently during this time.”

When the group passed through the bar and reached the small courtyard surrounded by walls, Sherlock suddenly spoke to Mr. Holmes.

”You’re quite right.”

Mr. Holmes smiled. He wasn’t surprised that his son could deduce this.

Harry asked curiously, ”Sherlock, how did you figure that out?”

”The parking spot outside is reserved for long-term renters.”

”It’s that simple?”

Ron found it somewhat incredible.

Mr. Holmes kept smiling.

Obviously, his son’s friends had also discovered his extraordinary abilities.

”As I’ve said before, if you observe carefully, these things are really quite trivial once explained.

Besides the parking spot, the bartender was clearly treating my father with the attitude reserved for regular customers, which also indicates that Father has been coming here frequently.”

”Exactly right,” Mr. Holmes added. ”Although I can’t enter Diagon Alley myself, I can still learn about the magical world through this pub.”

”Oh, Mr. Holmes, I bet you’d become great friends with my father.”

Ron said with bright eyes.

His father worked at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in the Ministry of Magic and had a strong interest in everything related to Muggles.

Meeting Mr. Holmes, who had such keen interest in the magical world, the two would surely have common ground.

At this point, Harry had already tapped the fixed position on the wall bricks with his wand at Sherlock’s instruction, opening the passage to Diagon Alley.

”Sherlock, where are we going?”

”Gringotts.”

This was the off-season, so Diagon Alley wasn’t as crowded as it was before the start of term.

On the way to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Sherlock also told his two friends the purpose of this trip.

He wanted to exchange some British pounds for wizarding currency using Harry and Ron’s names.

Both boys came from wizarding families, so their annual limit for exchanging pounds into Galleons was much higher than that of Sherlock and Hermione, whose parents were both Muggles.

Harry and Ron naturally agreed happily.

After all, opportunities to help Sherlock were few and far between—he almost never needed help.

The process did not need to be described in detail. With their help, Sherlock finally exchanged enough Galleons this time.

Harry had once seen the small vault his parents had left him in the underground vaults of Gringotts, so he was naturally unfazed by such scenes.

However, the glittering currency left Ron completely dazed.

He had never seen so much money in his life, and he entered a trance-like state.

It wasn’t until he unconsciously followed Sherlock to Ollivanders wand shop that he snapped back to attention:

”Sherlock, what are we doing here?”

”Buying a wand, naturally.”

Ron showed a surprised expression: ”Is your wand broken?”

”No, it’s for your wand.”

”Me?”

Ron pointed at himself, looking incredulous.

Just as he was about to say something more, a gentle voice interrupted him:

”Hello there, it’s quite rare to see young wizards here at this time.”

Ollivander slowly emerged from inside. When he saw Harry, his eyes lit up. ”Mr. Potter, we meet again.”

”Hello.”

Harry greeted Ollivander somewhat awkwardly.

At this point, Sherlock pointed at Ron. ”My friend needs a new wand.”

Ollivander’s gaze immediately shifted from Sherlock to Ron.

”This should be a Weasley boy, right? Could you show me your wand?”

Ron didn’t take out his wand, but looked at Sherlock with confusion: ”Sherlock, what is this about...”

”If you haven’t forgotten what happened when we first met, you should remember I told you that wands should choose their suitable owners, otherwise spellcasting would be affected.”

Sherlock stared intently at Ron. ”Since the start of term, you’ve always struggled when casting spells, so I’d like to trouble Mr. Ollivander to take a look.

If it really is a wand problem, then a new wand will be my Christmas gift to you.”

ε(┬┬﹏┬┬)3

Ron’s eyes moistened.

Having five excellent older brothers, he had always been the overlooked one in the family.

Just as he had told Harry when they first met—his eldest brother Bill was Head Boy, his second brother Charlie was Quidditch team captain, his third brother Percy became a prefect, and his fourth and fifth brothers, the twins, might be mischievous troublemakers, but their grades were excellent.

Under these circumstances, the family naturally expected the youngest brother Ron to be like them too.

But even if Ron could truly achieve that, it wouldn’t be particularly remarkable.

Because his five brothers had already done it before him.

Looking at Ron’s performance among the first-years alone, there really wasn’t much that stood out.

The only thing worth mentioning was his identity as ”friend of Harry Potter, the savior of the magical world.”

Of course, Harry himself wasn’t the problem.

Ron could feel that Harry genuinely considered him a friend.

So did Hermione, ever since the troll incident.

But even Hermione, when Ron failed at casting spells, would only repeatedly correct his pronunciation and posture.

This undoubtedly emphasized that ”the problem lies with you.”

Yet no one thought that Ron’s difficulty with spellcasting might be due to a second-hand wand.

But Sherlock had thought of it.

Not only had he thought of it, but he was putting it into practice.

Ron’s eyes moistened again.

You can read more chapters on:

patreon.com/MikeyMuse